


Of Undercover Detectives and Scarlet Druglords.

by drunkinthemorning



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, Tension, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:58:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkinthemorning/pseuds/drunkinthemorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patty Spivot was on fast tracks to becoming an outstanding police officer, until she dropped out of Central City's Police Academy. In actuality, she had accepted a position on Detective Joe West's covert undercover task force, their only mission to infiltrate a dangerous criminal organization and ultimately exposing their mysterious figurehead, a man known only as, "The Flash."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Undercover Detectives and Scarlet Druglords.

**Author's Note:**

> It tastes place in a slightly AU universe, without superheroes nor powers.

A few months more and Patty Spivot would have graduated from Central City's Police Academy with near perfect scores. She was not only at the top of her class in academics, but have also broken quite a few records in her time while at the shooting ranges. That was until her sudden withdrawal from the Officer's program, a peculiarly unexpected request without a stated reason in her withdrawal forms.

The day before, Patty was one step closer to achieving her lifelong dreams of becoming an outstanding Police Officer, and in the next, she was gone.

Her seat was empty, her records expunged, it felt almost as though she was never there in the first place. For the next few days, her classmates mostly gossiped about her disappearance, from whether it was due to family or personal problems, from relationship matters all the way to a drug addiction. In a matter of only weeks however, those too, simply ceased to exist as she once did.

And as Patty Spivot's presence inside of the CCPA gradually came to naught, life seemingly goes on, undisturbed, unaffected by her mysterious disappearance.

* * *

Looking at her own reflection from a broken glass bottle, she noticed how sunken her cheeks were, as though they were hollowed from the inside. Tossing the makeshift mirror to the side, she watched as it rolled down the uneven alleyway before coming to a stop by the front of an overturned bin. She pulled at the dirtied beanie that she wore, trying to get her stray strands of brown hair underneath the clothing's fabric. She shivered a little, before pulling the tattered clothing that she wore a little tighter around herself.

It was another cold Central City night, one that would only become all the more unfriendly to outside residents as the night went on. There was a streetlamp standing pathetically around the corner from where she sat, it flickered briefly, almost like a dying flame that refused to burn out, a desperate cling onto reality, as though it would cease to exist if it ever did. Its given illumination was pitiful, a weak challenge to the creeping shadows that threatened to swallow it whole. She sat at the edge of its luminescence, the remainder of her body shrouded where light could not reach.

The torn cardboard she used as a seat wasn't entirely comfortable, but she wasn't in a position to complain. A few broken vials laid beside her, used and discarded, their contents undoubtedly unhealthy and illegal. Patty rubbed at her arm, it felt sore from all the hours she had spent sitting by the corner. She was slightly annoyed by a constant itch near the front of her biceps, her nails scratching across what seemed to be track marks caused by syringe injections. They were red and swollen, evident signs of a constant drug user.

A few more hours passed before she got up from her position, her clothing pulled ever so tightly around her, barely protecting her from the cold as wisps of warm exhale were visible with each breath that she took. Her heels were protected only by a pair of white socks, now as grey as the pavement below her.

Shuffling tiredly down the alleyway and making sure as to not step on anything potentially sharp, she eventually stopped at its entrance, in front of a dark and unmarked van.

She took a quick but precise look around her, checking every possible vantage point before she was satisfied with the outcome and knocking onto the van's side. She was given a return knock from someone inside, two taps, an "all clear" signal before she moved to the back and opened the doors. Entering the vehicle, she pulled her beanie off and tossed it to the side, allowing a headful of brown hair to tussle down her back. She wiped at the makeup that caked her face, revealing a tremendously more youthful and much healthier features underneath, before pealing off the sticky prosthetic that kept her itching the entire night.

"Really Joe?" She sighed exasperatedly, "the department really has to come up with better equipment, this really is driving me insane, any more I would have just stuck the needles into my arms myself."

There wasn't much Detective Joe West could offer other than to offer an understandingly sympathetic smile. The woman that sat in front of him did not look like much, but she was more than a hero in his books.

There were not a lot of police officers that would willingly relinquish their badges, even lesser were willing to drop out of their courses and forgo their own graduation in order to join his undercover task force. The latter was an absolute necessity, he couldn't risk having officers that were already entered into the system. The probability, the likelihood of being discovered if someone were to somehow hack into their databases or recognize an officer from a previous arrest, it was an immense threat to the officers themselves.

They could only use young academy recruits, those that not only excelled on every aspect, but were also willing to undergo further intensive training outside of their usual curriculum, to fulfill tasks that they might never receive the proper recognition for. Patty Spivot accepted his offer without the slightest hint of hesitation, and while she have kept her uniform still starched and proper, she couldn't remember the last time she put it on.

"Nothing again I assume?" She sighed yet again as she looked towards the dozens of surveillance feeds set up in their makeshift operation room. Greyed video screens stared at her from behind Joe, each pointed towards a different section of the alleyway she came from, along with one that was positioned directly towards where she sat for the last few hours.

Joe shook his head, "I don't know, Patty. Maybe we're looking at it wrong, maybe they don't deal out of the same place twice." He was tired and exhausted, not just because of the hours he had survived on caffeinated energy, but also of the time he had spent futilely on this particular case without even finding a single shred of evidence or a lead that would help further their investigation. His eyes were starting to hurt, he rubbed against them with his fingers, it did little to alleviate the pain. He missed his family, his wife, his daughter, he wanted to spend time with them, not hours inside of a cramped police van.

But it was what he needed to do, keeping criminals off the streets was the least he could do to keep his family safe.

"I think…" She mumbled before a wide grin crossed her lips, "we need to recharge. There's a 24 hour Bob's Burgers around the corner from here, you have no idea how much my stomach was growling the whole day. The next time we do a stakeout, please park us somewhere the delicious smell of greasy burgers cannot reach me." Taking a piece of rubber band, she tied her hair up before throwing a jacket on, exiting the van and heading towards the store.

The tiny bell on the top signaled her entry, a soft chime that accompanied the mouth-watering aroma of food. Other than her and a single patron sitting at the counter, the store was otherwise empty. She tugged her jacket slightly, making sure that her concealed weapon was not visible before heading over towards the counter, smiling at the overweight cook that stood behind, ready for her order.

"I will have… two of… erm, Bob's Star Burgers, with fries and drinks for each." She looked over the menu again before adding in, "and also a set of onion rings, nuggets and… a chocolate milkshake." The cook shrugged his head in response before turning towards the stove, his years of experience allowing him to recite her order back to her without even writing any of it down.

"Yes," she nodded, impressed by his unexpected ability when he reconfirmed her order, "oh and to go."

As the cook started with her meal, she turned towards the other patron by the counter. It was a young man, with attractive brown hair and a slight five o'clock shadow, she gauged him to be slightly near her age, perhaps older. He wore something that resembled a traveler's coat, with huge bags that rested by the side of his seat. He seemed to have noticed her stare, his head slowly turning in her direction, his eyes questioningly catching her gaze.

Realizing what she was done, she blinked awkwardly and shook her head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

Fortunately for her, he did not seem to be offended. Instead, a warm smile greeted her in return. "Don't worry. If I kill everyone that looks at me funny, the world would be a very different place."

He spoke with a slight accent that suited her initial impression of a visiting foreigner. His radiant features betrayed the wickedness of his comment, along with earnest eyes that were almost like a cute Labrador threatening to end the world.

She chuckled softly, "that is an interesting way to look at things." Sitting onto the stool beside his, she asked, "so where are you visiting from?"

She wasn't usually this talkative, especially so in her line of work. But with most of the last week spent without human contact other than the occasional check in with Joe, she was craving conversation.

A look of confusion crossed his features for a mere moment, before he realized she was referring to the way he was dressed, and the bags that he carried along with him. "Oh, somewhere far away. You've probably never heard of it, a little seaside town named Cor-"

They were interrupted by the returning cook, who have already packed all of her ordered food in unbelievable haste. Handing the man what she owed and taking her change back in return, she turned towards the seated patron, apologizing for having to leave before finishing their conversation.

"Don't worry," he laughed softly, "we don't want your food getting cold."

"It's really nice to meet you," she extended an arm towards him, "I'm Patty, Patty Johnson." It wasn't her real name, but something of an undercover identity given to her since she joined Joe's task force a year ago. It came out fluidly now, almost as natural as her introducing her real self.

"Nice to meet you too," he accepted her handshake before she left the store, his grip firm, a sort of strength she did not expect.

"I'm Barry, Barry Allen."


End file.
